A Midsummer Muslim's Night Dream
by Ice Is Nice
Summary: A collection of one-shots of Islamic stories starting with the tale of 'The Pious Student,' this story starts my series 'A Midsummer Muslim's Night dream,' about the title—don't ask. I had a brush of creativity one day and loved this unusual name with a Shakespearian twist so much that I decided to use it as the title for this series.
1. The pious student

**Author note: A short re-narration of my personal favourite of all time 'The Pious Student,' this story was narrated by Maulana Siddique Ahmed Saheb Mudda Zilluhu. It can be found in the book "Adaa'bul Muta'allimeen" The main story remains the same; only certain elements were slightly modified for 'theatrical effect,' while the core events remain the same. This story starts my series 'A Midsummer Muslim night's dream,' about the title—don't ask. I thought I had a brush of creativity once and loved this unusual name with a Shakespearian twist so much decided to use it for this series. I first heard about 'The Pious Student' from a video upload from EmanulIslam and here is the link if you want to check out the original **** watch?v=bhmBWxfyhaI****. Someone also decided to upload a Manga version which I also love and here is the link to that **** watch?v=LuRuLqzuhbM****, do check it out.**

**Disclaimer/Warning: This is an AU and I do not own any of the characters/settings/anything that you recognise. Also any indecent/offensive comments will be removed and reported.**

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**The Pious Student**

It was an unusually cool night in Delhi with the moon shining brightly across the muddy streets as a veiled woman carrying a basket of freshly baked bread walked in a slow yet composed manner. Appreciating the beauty which surrounded her eyes didn't leave the inky night sky, or the peacefulness of the modest houses lined in vertical array.

Until a shot was heard and then a cry, a scream and the next thing that she knew her entire world is ablaze, the once coolness of black became fiery orange with gusts of yellow springing across the beautiful red brick houses. Clutching tightly to her straw basket that is when she noticed a fast moving blur. Her eyesight hazy due to the rising smoke and her gut sank as she finally realised what is happening—a riot between two clans and she knows that this would not end without blood being spilled.

Fear coursed through her veins as she desperately looked around for a place of sanctuary to escape the battle. Escaping to the shadows her lips immediately started to repeat a dua***** under her breath until she noticed a dark grey building, slightly shabby due to its age yet Al'humdilla* her prayers had been answered.

No one would harm her in the house of God.

Nimble fingers pushed the door open and she hesitantly went inside, expecting the mosque to be empty her lips released a sign of relief until she noticed a flickering flame in the distance. As she got closer to the flame she realised that a person is using the light of the flame to study deep into the night, the figure is hunched over a thick book spread across his lap and to her amazement he doesn't move a muscle until she moves behind the flame—her shadow spreads across the vast room and the student snaps his gaze to her in utter bewilderment.

"Who're you? You cannot remain here you must leave. It is not appropriate for you to remain here because if the local people see you here than this will be a cause of my disgrace. They'll remove me from this Mosque and this will cause harm to my studies."

Terrified, alone and fearing the repercussions of being in the midst of the riot she replied with a shaky breath, "A riot has broken out between on the streets and if I leave this mosque than I fear that I'll be dishonored " Upon hearing these words and realising the dire situation of the young woman the student kept quiet after directing her to sit in the corner of the mosque.

Thereafter the young student returned to his corner and engaged himself in studying the whole night, while studying the student would momentarily place his finger-tip at the edge of the flame. The woman observed this in fascination as the night slowly burnt away.

As crimson hue bled into the early morning sky declaring it dawn. The student finally closed his book and looked onto the streets that had previously occupied the riot.

"The riot has subsided and the road is safe. Let me take you to your home."

The young lady said "I'll not return home until you reveal to me the secret of you repeatedly placing your fingertip upon the flame of your lamp."

The student sighed before replying "You should not concern yourself with that." Nevertheless the young woman persisted and the student finally told her.

"The devil repeatedly whispered in my heart and encouraged me to do evil with you. Hence I placed my fingertip on the flame and addressed myself thus; when you cannot bear the heat of the fire of this world then how will you ever bear the painful fire of Hell? God, through his grace protected me." Hearing this, the young woman returned home but not before asking the name of the pious student.

_Naruto Uzumaki _

The young woman known as Hinata Hyuga was a daughter of a wealthy aristocrat and she was engaged to the son of another wealthy family.

After this incident she refused the proposal after announcing to her family that "I desire to marry the student named Naruto Uzumaki who studies at the local mosque." Her decision created unrest in her household while her parents and relatives tried to convince her otherwise soon rumours spread as people entertained false speculations about the young heiress.

When they reached her ears she finally decided to explain the entire incident, she said "I'll only marry him because he has the fear of God in his heart and whoever fears God cannot cause harm to anyone."

Finally they were wed

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***Means supplication to God in Arabic**

***Meaning praise be to God in Arabic**


	2. The perfect husband

**Author note: Reported by Abu Hurairah (RA): Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him) said, "A believer must not hate (his wife) believing woman; if he dislikes one of her characteristics he will be pleased with another". [Muslim]**

**I would like to thank all my reviewers for your kind words and support; I honestly thought I wouldn't get any reviews.**

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**The Perfect Husband **

Hinata stares at the night sky, her lips pursed as she drinks the overly sweet lemonade yet she isn't content, after so many hours of preparation her husband still isn't home—her eyes yet again dart to her watch and disappointment creeps into her gut. This isn't the first time that he has been late from work but she really hoped that he would try to make it this time.

After one last glance at the beautifully laid out dinner table she begins to slowly pack away the cold food, a sob escapes her lips but she tries to brush away it hastily.

"Al'humdilla,"* she whispers, it is the decree of Allah and that is that—there would be other nights to enjoy her husband's presence but why does she feel so emotionally drained?

The sheer tiredness of her soul worries her slightly, after all she expected to feel anger, fury or even irritation but perhaps those emotions have gone stale—far too many disappointments have left her not having such high expectations when it came to her husband and a part of feels broken.

Almost like she can feel no pain due to the numbness instilled into her through years of her failing marriage.

When Hinata thinks back to her eight year old self she realises that this was not her childhood dream, in those long hours that she spent fantasising about her prince charming she never thought for a second that she would spend over a decade waiting for her husband to come home on time.

She expected him with each strike of the sword he sav her from the evils of this world, to be her protector—but she would have never imagined that he would be the one striking her heart with his bullet like words until she could no longer breathe.

No, Hinata realises that life is far from fantasy—it is hardly a place of dreams and as she blows out the candles a figure emerges from dimly lit corridor.

"Assalamu Walaikum,"* Hinata spins around at the sound of his voice as she looks her prince charming in the eye.

"Walaikum Asalam,"* she replies, he carries on staring at her and then at the empty dinner table.

"I'm sorry." Hinata sighs softly, this scene is far too familiar for her but she leans against the counter, arms crossed as she waits to hear his excuse.

She hopes that it is original

"Since we got married—" he pauses and Hinata finds herself staring at him inquisitively, there is something different about him and she notices a hint of nervousness in his tone, a tender scratch to his beard before he takes in a deep breath.

"I am sorry for not appreciating you and for never taking our marriage seriously. I know from the incredulous look on your face that you think that this is all a joke but I promise you that this far from it. I also know that no amount words will ever make up for the time that I have lost so I won't say anything except that I love you for the sake of Allah—" he pauses yet again to pull out an envelope, lips twisting in a small smile before placing the envelope in Hinata's hand, "I think it is about time that we go to Hajj."*

Hinata stares at the man in front of her, her life partner, her prince charming but then she realises how wrong she has been. Her husband isn't prince charming—the epitome of perfection instead he is a man, nothing more and nothing less.

And it is then when she realised that indeed she also loves him for the sake of Allah,

"I couldn't agree more."

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*** Praise be to God**

*** Peace be upon you (an Islamic greeting)**

*** reply to the greeting which also means peace be upon you.**

***Hajj is the pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina in Saudi Arabia**


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